


Everybody Does It

by pepperlandgirl4



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:39:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperlandgirl4/pseuds/pepperlandgirl4
Summary: Everybody's got to have a good wank now and again.





	

Everybody did it. Everybody knew everybody did it. And everybody politely pretended it never happened. Merlin hadn’t been shocked on his first trip with Arthur and his knights to hear at least four different knights having a good wank after everybody had bedded down. Three of them had been surprisingly quiet but still noticeable. One of them had to bite back his moans as he furiously pumped his wrist. None of them had been Arthur. In fact, it was _never_ Arthur. And since Merlin always followed Arthur’s lead when it came to the appropriate behavior around his knights, he always closed his ears to the soft sounds of pleasure and slept with his hands tucked at his sides. 

Until the night they camped near the lake. And all of the knights had stripped themselves, helping each other with their armor, and gone for a swim under the fading sunlight. Merlin had sat behind a tree and pretended he was the only person in the forest, because seeing Arthur naked in his bath was much different from seeing Arthur naked in the middle of a lake, shining in fading light, his hair a dark blond, sliding through the lake like a blade. Merlin had willed his cock to soften, but sitting across the fire from Arthur later that night had been agony. The orange light got caught in his eyes, and his hair had dried in complete disarray, and he was in an easy, quiet mood. One that meant quick smiles and soft laughter, and he seemed far away from the prat Merlin knew him to be. 

After Arthur kicked dirt over the fire, Merlin stared at the stars, shutting his ears to the knights as they went through their nightly routines. Why _didn’t_ Arthur ever have a wank? Merlin was curious in a purely academic sense, of course. His idle musings on the question weren’t lewd. It wasn’t as though he touched himself why he tried to figure out where, and when, Arthur got himself off. He never did when they were away from Camelot, and Merlin had never heard him from his cot in the antechamber. Or made the mistake of walking in on him. Based on what Merlin had seen in the past six months, Arthur never took the time to wank. Which was just bizarre because surely _everybody_ did it, even crown princes. 

Merlin set that question aside and let his mind drift back to the image of Arthur standing waist-deep in the cool, shimmering water. Despite his best efforts, his hand eventually found his stiff cock. He caught his breath as his cool fingers curled around his shaft, and he listened for any hint that the men surrounding him were awake. Merlin even lifted his head a little, scanning the still forms scattered around him, motionless shadows in the silver light. Everybody was asleep. Merlin knew it. Even Arthur’s blond head was still. Gawain was keeping watch, but he was on the other side of the clearing and Merlin planned to be silent. 

Merlin loosened his laces and readjusted his grip on his cock. He told himself he was _not_ going to push his breeches down. He fully intended to keep himself covered. But the material was so rough and stiff from their hike through the forest, and his skin was so sensitive. It felt like he was dragging sackcloth down his shaft. And the sensation only got worse when the precome slicked his head. Frustrated that it was keeping him away from his various memories of Arthur, Merlin pushed the garment down his thighs, completely exposing himself to the air and the sky and any stray glance. 

With a sigh, he began stripping his cock in earnest. When the desire to close his eyes became too much, he had the presence of mind to scan the surrounding area. Everybody was still asleep. Nothing had moved. They were in a perfect bubble of silence, and Merlin had somehow muffled his own moans. The quiet he could never capture in a bed came easily to him in the forest, with grass beneath his shoulders and the remains of a fire just inches from his legs. Merlin’s eyes fluttered shut, and he thought of the way Arthur’s skin had looked as he glided through the water, nothing visible except the slope of his shoulder and the length of his arm. 

When he opened them again, he lazily looked Arthur’s way, confident he could steal a few glimpses of the sleeping prince. Except, Arthur wasn’t asleep. His eyes were open, locked on Merlin, unblinking. Merlin’s mouth ran dry, and his first instinct was to stop and explain himself. As if Arthur needed an explanation. Besides, he couldn’t make himself stop. Every hard pull on his cock pushed him closer to the edge, and if he didn’t take care of things now, he would just wake up with his pants tented in front of him. He’d certainly not be able to do anything about it in full daylight, and Merlin knew from experience just how horrible it could be to sit in a saddle when that excited. 

Movement caught Merlin’s attention, and he realized it was Arthur’s wrist. His long fingers mostly blocked everything from Merlin’s sight, but occasionally he caught a glimpse of pale, gleaming skin. Arthur’s cock. As naked as Merlin’s. Practically within touching distance. If he moved to the side just a bit, reached for him, he could take Arthur in hand. He longed to do just that, his body twitching for the chance. 

Arthur blinked and Merlin realized he had been staring for a _long_ time, which just wasn’t acceptable (even if looked like Arthur started it. If he wanted to stare, he could. And if Merlin told him to stop, he’d keep staring out of spite). Blood flooded to his face, and he felt himself blushing to the roots of his hair. Everybody did it and everybody _pretended they didn’t know about it._ It was rude to stare at the knights while they did it, but it was probably punishable by death to stare at Arthur. Or at least, punishable by _something_ unpleasant. Something so unpleasant that Merlin couldn’t even think of it. It would have to come from Arthur’s devious mind. 

Fear eclipsed his pleasure, and his hand slowed, then stopped. He stared pointedly at the stars, wishing they could drop from the heavens and carry him away. Or at least hide him from Arthur’s sight until the memory of those thirty seconds (a minute? Five minutes? Merlin didn’t know) had passed. 

“Don’t stop.” It was no more than a croak of a sound. So small that if Merlin wasn’t already so attuned to Arthur, he would have missed it completely. Doubting he heard it at all, he let his gaze slide to the right, and his eyes met Arthur’s again. He experimentally slid his palm from his crown to the root, and Arthur responded with the smallest, pointed nod. 

The desire to reach out and touch Arthur flooded through him again, sharper now. He could press his body next to Arthur’s and grip both shafts at once, letting his length slide against Arthur’s smooth, hot skin. He could breathe in the scent of Arthur’s skin and hair and absorb his heat. He wouldn’t kiss Arthur, unless he was feeling very, very brave, and he wouldn’t expect Arthur to do anything except enjoy it. But he wouldn’t mind if Arthur kissed him first. Not at all. His stomach tightened at the thought of Arthur’s mouth moving closer, finally touching his. 

Merlin bit back his moan and shoved the fantasy aside. It wasn’t going to happen, but that didn’t mean he had nothing. Arthur was still watching him, though his eyes were half-closed now, and his fingers were moving faster—at the same tempo as Merlin’s hand, in fact. And why was he doing _that_? 

Merlin should have felt humiliated at having Arthur watch him when everybody knows you’re supposed to look away. He was still blushing furiously, but he didn’t feel humiliated. He wrapped his other hand around the base, holding himself tightly as he began to pump his fist faster. He braced both feet against the ground and lifted his hips, straining for more pressure and friction. _Wishing_ he wasn’t feeling his own hand. Wishing Arthur would stop being a spectator and start being a participant. 

Arthur finally closed his eyes, and Merlin nearly whimpered his disappointment. He didn’t want to lose that connection, no matter how tentative and furtive it was. Knowing he could watch without fear, he greedily drank in the sight of Arthur’s hand flying over his cock. He stared, captivated, his mind whirling with images and possibilities, until he almost felt sick with it. His skin was too tight and he bucked against his hand, as if that could make up for the fact that it wasn’t Arthur’s. 

Arthur’s breath hitched, and his hand froze. Merlin’s eyes widened as Arthur jerked his hips, filling his palm with ribbons of come. _What would it be like to lick him clean?_

And that was that. The base of Merlin’s spine tingled, and he cupped his hand over the crown seconds before everything exploded. His body convulsed as the pleasure was forced up his spine and through his body, tightening every muscle and heating his blood. His cock pulsed and the come felt hot against his cool skin. He caught it all in his palm, squeezing his head to coax the last of it out. When he opened his eyes again, Arthur was still watching him. 

Merlin didn’t know what possessed him. He didn’t think about it. He certainly didn’t consider how Arthur might react or what it might say about him. He just did it, like he did so many things, without thought of the consequences. He brought his hand up to his mouth and licked a long string of come away, still looking at Arthur, still thinking about cleaning Arthur’s cock with his tongue, still half-hard. He lapped at his skin, twining his tongue around each finger, catching every drop. He felt pliant and tense at the same time, prepared to relax against the ground even though he was ready to spring to his feet if Arthur gestured for him. 

Arthur didn’t gesture for him. Arthur didn’t do anything except tuck his cock back in his pants. Merlin sighed softly and did the same before rolling to his side and pulling his knees up to his chest. Arthur looked at him and he looked back, unsure if Arthur was even seeing him. Maybe he slept with his eyes opened. Maybe he was busy trying to puzzle out if Merlin had always been an idiot or if he took a particularly hard blow to the head early in life. Merlin just watched Arthur because that was what he did. That’s what he did every night they were on patrol or a hunt. 

The next morning, everything was exactly the same. Arthur roused them all before dawn, insufferably cheerful and eager to move forward. That made riding out with the knights worth it—Arthur was not a morning person unless he slept on the ground. It made little sense, but it was undeniably true. Merlin nosed his horse up to ride beside Arthur, ignoring Gawain’s glare as the knight was pushed further back. Arthur acknowledged him with a “Do you think you can manage not to ruin the whole hunt today?” and Merlin replied with a cheerful, “I’ll try!” After that, Merlin realized that it never happened. At least as far as Arthur was concerned. Because everybody did it, and everybody knew it, and everybody politely pretended it never happened.


End file.
